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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104761">ghost town - the aftermath (oneshot)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootforbrains/pseuds/sootforbrains'>sootforbrains</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Sleepy Bois Inc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 05:00:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootforbrains/pseuds/sootforbrains</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Manburg festival left behind some demons to attend to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ghost town - the aftermath (oneshot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>General TW for death--although, as always, no gore or anything of the sort (although this is a bit of an angsty oneshot). Enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunset always seemed to paint things in a calmer light.</p><p>Tommy let his legs dangle below him as he sat perched on the branch, letting his fatigued body slump against the trunk of the tree. He cast his gaze out upon Manburg, and considered how the dusk seemed to light it on fire. Schlatt's throne seemed suddenly as whimsical as a relic from a child's fairy tail. The bedraggled and bloodstained festival decorations seemed like nothing but the mere leftovers from some overly enthusiastic party. </p><p>And the box where Tubbo had been executed was practically bathed in the fading light, glimmering like a beacon. Schlatt had left it intact to send a message to the remaining residents of Manburg; <i>do not cross me, for you will regret it.</i></p><p>Tommy felt a bubbling pain register in his chest, and he closed his eyes briefly in order to process it, to shove it back down. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get Wilbur's voice out of his head. <i>It's been awhile since we've hung out like this, Tommy. Lately it's been quite cold.</i></p><p>There were so many things he needed to fix. So, so many.</p><p>When he opened his eyes again, Tubbo was sitting on the branch beside him, gazing at him with a furrowed brow. The sunset made him seem radiant, illuminating his deep brown eyes and making them honey-colored. Tommy felt his heart catch, then release itself slowly. </p><p>"What are you thinking about?" Tubbo asked, curiously, as if he had not a care in the world. As if his weight on the branch wasn't practically nonexistent--for if it had really been him, alive and warm again, the two boys would have gone plummeting down to the ground in a matter of seconds. He beamed at Tommy as if not a few hours prior, he'd been shanked by his own ally for all the public to see.</p><p>Tommy repressed another cringe. Instead, he smiled cautiously at Tubbo, and said, "I'm thinking about that fucking button."</p><p>He shifted, and his body ached in protest; it was still horrendously sore from his fist-fight with Techno. The bandage that swathed half of his left cheek itched ferociously. Tubbo only eyed him, and said, "You shouldn't be."</p><p>"Shouldn't be what?"</p><p>"Thinking about the button. It's gone." Tubbo shrugged, then cast his gaze outward upon Manburg. Tommy followed it, and tried to imagine taking in a land that you were no longer a part of. That you had been so hastily stolen from as a casualty of war. He tried to imagine seeing Manburg as a final resting place.</p><p>He simply couldn't bear it.</p><p>And it was true; the button was gone. It hadn't been pressed. Everything remained intact.</p><p>Except--</p><p>"You're dead," Tommy said to him matter-of-factly, almost abruptly. </p><p>Tubbo turned to look at him, keeping his expression even. "Yes."</p><p>"Techno killed you at <i>your own festival</i>."</p><p>Tubbo blinked, bit his lip. "....yes. You watched it happen."</p><p>Tommy took in a shuddering breath, then let forth the thing that had been pulling at him for the past hour. "So why aren't you upset?"</p><p>Tubbo didn't answer; he merely reached up a finger and touched the place just over his heart where Techno's firework had lodged itself. He looked at Tommy coolly, and said, slowly, "I am upset."</p><p>"Are you?" Tommy leaned forward, ignoring the protests of his broken body. "Because you don't seem like it. If I were you, I'd be livid. I'd be haunting the <i>shit</i> out of Techno, or Schlatt, or <i>somebody</i>, I don't know, but I'd be getting my fucking revenge." </p><p>Tubbo shook his head slightly, and there was something caught in his expression, something that seemed to resemble despair--but it was merely dressed in despair's clothing. It didn't appear to be genuine. "I can only haunt you, Tommy," he said softly, so soft that it was almost impossible to hear him over the evening breeze.</p><p>"But why?" </p><p>"Because you're the only one who cares about me enough." Tubbo said this with a haughty jerk of his head, and he crossed his arms over his chest, almost self-consciously. It should have been obvious, of course. They were the dynamic duo. </p><p>They promised to always stick with each other, no matter what.</p><p>Tommy sighed, leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree. He was starting to detest the nation he'd once founded, for it had brought him nothing but loss. He'd lost his older brother to insanity and corruption, to a twisted view of his own morals that could not be righted no matter how anyone reached for it to be; he'd lost the home he'd given up his beloved discs for; he'd lost his admiration for his idol to the truth in the election, that he was nothing but a scumbag, nothing but a power-hungry mongrol.</p><p>And now, he'd lost his best friend.</p><p>His own right-hand-man.</p><p>"Is it better?" Tommy looked to Tubbo, let his eyes linger on his friend. He thought back to Tubbox, to their endless cave expeditions. To Big Law, to their horribly conducted therapy sessions. All of it piled behind the backs of Tommy's eyes, threatened to spill over in warm tears. But he wouldn't let himself cry, not now. </p><p>
  <i>He was so tired.</i>
</p><p>Tubbo sighed, and the two boys sat suspended in a moment of silence, before Tubbo said, almost uncertainly, "Nothing hurts anymore. But I wish you guys were here with me." </p><p>Tommy frowned, but Tubbo was smiling. Carefully, Tommy reached forward, fingers stretching, yearning to catch even a last gilmmer of his friend. </p><p>But before he could, there came a voice from down below: "Tommy?"</p><p>He let his hand drop, and twisted so that he could see who was calling his name. Beneath the tree, with her head tilted upward, Niki stood with her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sharp rays of sun. When she saw Tommy looking at her, she gave him a smile, warm and inviting--perhaps the last good thing left in these rolling hills of Manburg. </p><p>"Hello, Niki," he called.</p><p>"Hello, Tommy." She squinted, twisting her face--which was scratched to all hell from God knows what--into a scrunched expression. "Who are you talking to?"</p><p>Tommy glanced at Tubbo, who merely shrugged, indifferent. To Niki, he said, "Nobody."</p><p>Niki's brow furrowed; she wasn't convinced, but instead of pressing, she said, "Why don't you come on down? It'll be dark soon."</p><p>And it would be dark soon; Tommy wasn't sure he'd be able to handle himself against the creatures that lurked in the shadows of nighttime, and so he turned and lugged his aching body down the tree, descending slowly so as not to aggravate his wounds. When he reached the ground, Niki grabbed his arm to steady him; he hadn't even been aware he was wobbling.</p><p>"I think you might need to lie down," she said, softly, her hair a gentle wisp against his cheek. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his ribs; Tubbo was standing just behind Niki, watching him with a vacantly sad expression. </p><p>"Come on." Niki started to lead Tommy away from the base of the tree, toward Pogtopia. Tommy went along with her, because, really, what else was he to do? His body ached in time with his soul; perhaps sleep would act as an aid to his troubles. Perhaps when he woke up in the morning, he'd still be in L'Manberg, with a Wilbur who had not yet been corrupted. With a Tubbo that was still alive and raving about his bees.</p><p>Niki pulled him into the entrance to Pogtopia and helped him gingerly down the stairs. His eyelids were beginning to droop of their own accord, and he began to slouch against Niki's shoulder as she pulled him along.</p><p>"We're almost there," she said to him, her voice soft, filled with that sweetness he'd missed so dearly in those days after the election. "And then you can sleep." </p><p>"Sleep," repeated Tommy drearily, as they trodded across Pogtopia's sloping bridges and reached the cave floor. It seemed almost like a spell, a tantalizing aspect that he hadn't considered would be an option after so much sorrow. </p><p>But as Niki led him to one of the coves they used for sleeping, as she deposited him on the floor and grabbed a spare blanket to toss over him, Tommy watched Tubbo walk around Pogtopia's cave as if for the first time--despite helping build the place under Wilbur's command. </p><p>Tubbo's wide eyes landed on Tommy. </p><p>"When I wake up," Tommy said, and he didn't care that Niki was a few inches away from him, "when I wake up, will you still be here?"</p><p>Tubbo smiled wearily. "I should be."</p><p>Tommy returned the smile blearily. "Good."</p><p>Niki frowned at him, clutching a tattered blanket between her hands. Her eyes were drowned in their worry; but she didn't say anything about it. All she did was toss the blanket over Tommy's already-shivering body, and adjusted it around him as he let his eyes close. As he let himself drift off into warm confines of sleep. </p><p>And the last thing he heard before it overcame him was a soft, uncertain, "Goodnight, Tommy."</p><p>---------</p><p>Tubbo kept watch over Tommy as he slept. </p><p>Sleep no longer prowled at the edges of his consciousness; so, instead, he curled up next to his best friend and pulled his knees to his chest, gazing out at the caves of Pogtopia with a serene expression. He'd been telling Tommy the truth; nothing seemed to matter that much anymore, but not in a bad way. It was almost peaceful. </p><p>But as Niki moved around him, enveloped in her own world of being, he simply wished she could see him. Even just for a moment. </p><p>But she couldn't. So, he merely watched as she gathered up the blankets and made a spot for herself to sleep, attempting to soften the harsh ground of the cave floor. Tubbo smiled warmly at the thought that he would be both Tommy's and Niki's protectors as they slept; a guardian angel. </p><p>However, before Niki could lay herself down, there came a noise from up above--the creaking of one of the wooden bridges--and suddenly, Wilbur was descending the cave's stairs with a fervor, his trench coat billowing out behind him as he moved. Tubbo felt Niki tense; instinctively, he moved in front of Tommy. </p><p>As Wilbur reached the cave floor, he tore off in the direction of the secret tunnel that lead to Manburg; then stopped, turned back around, and approached Niki. </p><p>Tubbo bit his lip. It was getting harder and harder to look at Wilbur these days. A face that had once been so cheerful and strong turned gaunt with paranoia, eyes that were once bright now sunken in their sockets. They were wide as he regarded Niki in her swath of blankets; slowly, he said to her, "I need you to come with me."</p><p>Niki put a finger to her lips, and gestured to Tommy. Wilbur glanced at the sleeping boy--and Tubbo felt himself tense, as Wilbur's gaze passed over his own skin. But of course, Wilbur was looking through him; Tubbo doubted anyone aside from Tommy would look <i>at</i> him again. </p><p>"I need you to come with me," Wilbur repeated, quieter now, voice still hinged with intenseness. </p><p>Niki stood her ground. "Why?"</p><p>"Because I've found the button." His grin was wild, disconcerting. He glanced once again at Tommy. "I was hoping he'd be awake to witness this, but....you'll do."</p><p>Starting forward, he reached for Niki's arm.</p><p>She jerked away quickly, a sound of protest splitting from her lips. "Hey, don't--!"</p><p>"What?" Wilbur backed away, and regarded her with an almost wounded expression. <i>He really is delusional,</i> Tubbo thought anxiously. It was strange that he hadn't seen it before. </p><p>It was strange how one's execution could focus all the blurry points in one's life. Tubbo had once believed that there was hope for Wilbur, that even madness could be cured somehow. </p><p>He was beginning to doubt that now.</p><p>"Don't touch me." Niki's tone was firm. She clambered slowly to her feet, and while she was a few, considerable inches shorter than Wilbur, she met his gaze fiercely. "I'm capable of moving by myself."</p><p>"And you're coming with me." It wasn't a question.</p><p>"No, she isn't," said Tubbo.</p><p>"No, I'm not." Niki crossed her arms. "Get Techno to 'bear witness to your glory.' I'm tired, and I want to sleep."</p><p>A horrible grin split Wilbur's lips. "Techno's already asleep. He's had a long day."</p><p>Tubbo's heart felt suddenly cold. </p><p>There was a long, weighted moment of silence. The cave seemed to expand, then shrink, then expand again under the weight of it. Behind Tubbo, Tommy shifted in his sleep, moaning quietly. Tubbo found himself hoping fiercely that he would not wake up, not now. </p><p>"You murderers and your priorities," Niki said finally, then bent, grabbed her pile of blankets, and stormed off, in another direction, presumably to find another place to sleep. Tubbo watched her go, and felt pride tug at the corners of his lips. She'd come a long way from L'Manberg, that was for sure.</p><p>They all had.</p><p>To Tubbo's surprise, Wilbur only watched her go. He didn't move to go after her--he was too smart for that, it seemed. Instead, he turned his deranged gaze onto Tommy. </p><p>"Don't fucking touch him," Tubbo muttered.</p><p>But Wilbur--unbeknownst to the presence before him--disobeyed, leaning slowly forward and reaching out a hand toward Tommy's cheek. Tubbo watched, eyes wide with horror; and as he did, he caught sight of Wilbur's fingertips, where the color of the skin there had faded to a smudgy, inky black. </p><p>
  <i>Is it cold down here to you, Tubbo?</i>
</p><p>And suddenly, Tubbo found that he understood what it felt like to be truly and utterly <i>cold</i>; for this cold was more than a drop in temperature. No, it was a soul-chilling kind of cold, an internal, poisonous kind that ate at you until there was nothing left. </p><p>It was a cold that could only be found in the absence of life. </p><p>Panic coursed through Tubbo suddenly; and he threw out his own hand, clamped it around Wilbur's wrist, and shoved the madman's entire arm away from Tommy's body. </p><p>Wilbur stumbled, caught off-guard by his invisible opponent. His eyes went wide with shock; he glanced down at his hand, then back up at Tommy, attempting to process what had just happened to him. "What the fuck--"</p><p>He stopped suddenly, and stared at Tommy with wide, unkempt eyes. Tubbo kept his own gaze steady on Wilbur; and suddenly, he was back in the fields of L'Manburg, surrounded by those dark walls, those golden redwoods. He was sitting in the grass, and he could feel it against his legs, in the holes of his uniform--<i>he could feel again!</i>. Tommy was laying faceup beside him, hand draped lazily over Tubbo's lap, staring at the sky. And Wilbur, crouched before them, clad in his pristine uniform. Back then, his fingertips hadn't been black with frostbite. No, the cold wasn't something to worry about back then. </p><p>Back then, they had just been three boys sitting contently on the top of the world. Their war had been won, and the only casualty had been Tommy's dignity in his duel against Dream. </p><p>But they were no longer boys, now.</p><p>They were a madman, a ghost, and a broken spirit.</p><p>Wilbur wrenched his gaze away from Tommy, and said, quietly, to the floor, "The two of you made a pact, didn't you."</p><p>Tubbo jolted. It took him a moment to realize what, exactly, Wilbur was saying. </p><p>"We'd never leave each other's side," Tubbo whispered, for it <i>had</i> been a promise they'd made, back when Wilbur had first begun to descend into insanity. </p><p>
  <i>No matter what, we stick together.</i>
</p><p>"You'd stick together no matter what." Wilbur looked to Tommy, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Tubbo felt his heart clench--and it was the first real emotion he'd experienced since the fear he'd felt in that box. </p><p>Because for the first time, Wilbur seemed to be almost lucid. Madness aside--TNT aside--he seemed to be almost <i>himself</i> again. Back when he'd been nothing more than a revolutionary, the president of a newborn nation. </p><p>"I know you're there, Tubbo."</p><p>Wilbur's eyes remained trained on Tommy; the sound of those words chilled Tubbo to the bone, as if he still had a body to feel it in. He shifted, waited. What was he to say? How was he supposed to negotiate with ears that could not hear him?</p><p>"I know you'll probably always be there," Wilbur continued, and reached a hand up toward his head. Gently, he tugged off his beanie and held it to his chest. "And I wanted to say that I'm so fucking sorry."</p><p>Tubbo bit his lip. He reached out a hand toward Wilbur, but drew it back, clutched it close to his own chest. The wall between the dead and living was far too thick, far too strenuous to push one's soul through. And Tubbo--stuck on the wrong side of this wall, having been shoved into an unknown, cold world by the people he'd trusted the most--felt a momentary stab of despair course through his chest. It lasted for a split second, as he took in Tommy, still asleep; Wilbur and his lucid eyes, for it was the Wilbur he'd known back in L'Manberg.</p><p>
  <i>Come home.</i>
</p><p>"You didn't deserve what happened to you." Wilbur's voice caught, and he swallowed, tightening his grip on his beanie, folding it against his chest like he was praising a national monument. "And I hope you know that....you....that wasn't my intention."</p><p>"I know it wasn't," Tubbo whispered.</p><p>"But I've got to keep going." Here, the madness seemed to filter back into Wilbur's eyes. He pulled the beanie back over his hair, and cleared his throat. </p><p>"No, you don't," said Tubbo, almost pleading with him. "You can stop."</p><p>"I can't turn back now. I've found the button." At this, Wilbur's lips split into a horribly deranged grin. "I've found it. I've got to push it."</p><p>"No, you <i>don't</i>." Instinctively, Tubbo moved closer to Tommy, hands clasped together as if he were praying to some unjust god. "Please, Wilbur."</p><p>"If you can hear me, Tubbo...." Wilbur slowly rose to his feet; and just like that, he was no longer the Wilbur Tubbo liked to think he knew. He was the Wilbur on top of that roof at the festival, the Wilbur who held no mercy for those he once cared for. The Wilbur that had been so consumed by his lust for power that it had overtaken his very heart, his chest overgrown with vines of poison and cold, so much <i>cold</i>. </p><p>"If you can hear me," Wilbur repeated, slowly, never taking his eyes off of Tommy, "then I want you to move on." </p><p>Tubbo's despair faded quickly into that numbness that seemed to be the normal state of being for those who are unlucky enough to be strapped to a soul in the living world.</p><p>"I want you to go to whatever....whatever afterlife you need to go to," Wilbur continued, and he adjusted the gloves on his hands--his frostbitten fingertips a sore sight in the harsh cave light, "because you aren't going to want to see what comes next."</p><p>And with that, he strutted away, trench coat billowing out behind him. Tubbo watched him go with a pitted feeling in his stomach. </p><p>He glanced down at Tommy--still blissfully unaware. </p><p>
  <i>I want you to move on.</i>
</p><p>"I won't move on," he said, and it was decided. He was going to be here, no matter what Wilbur tried to tell him. No matter what happened to Pogtopia, or Manburg, Tubbo would stick by Tommy's side. </p><p>Regardless of who could see him or not.</p><p>They had made a pact, after all.</p>
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